


Gavin Gets a Cat

by gulkote



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Cats, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-16
Updated: 2018-10-08
Packaged: 2019-07-13 04:38:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16010459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gulkote/pseuds/gulkote
Summary: just little snippets of gavin, the horrible man, and how he got his horrible cat





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hey so there is mentions of domestic violence in the very beginning of this chap!! you can skip to "Sometimes, Gavin hates being a cop" if you wanna avoid it

The living room is a mess. Broken furniture litters the ground, shards of lamps and plates forming a path of destruction throughout the house. There are large splashes of blood everywhere.

There is one body, currently under a sheet. Gavin doesn’t need to be a detective to evaluate the scene. It’s pretty obvious that the husband is the culprit, and that he has a serious Red Ice addiction. Honestly, with the amount of evidence of his Red Ice dealings all throughout the house, Gavin is amazed that he hasn’t been arrested yet.

But they just can’t run off and arrest him, they have to put his damn fingerprints through forensics and get a warrant. Sometimes, Gavin hates being a cop.

It’s pretty cut and dry, so there really isn’t a need for him to be there any more. When Gavin turns to leave there is the tiniest noise from under the couch. It sounds a bit like a very tiny scream.

Gavin crouches down to look, and cured up in the farthest corner is a very fluffy cat with enormous eyes. He signs and runs his hands over his face. Today has been very long, he is very tired, and he doesn’t want to deal with someone’s pet on top of it.

Gavin looks again at the cat. Big yellow eyes look back at him. It opens its mouth wide to let out another tiny meow. It’s not even a proper meow, it’s a very soft scream. It must have been the wife’s, there is no way that that guy would have given two shits about another living creature.

 _Son of a bitch, why I am doing this,_ Gavin thinks as he hauls himself back to his feet. “Alright, can someone get something for the cat.”

“I’m sorry, the what?” The nearest guy does a double take at him.

He sighs and waves his hand at the couch, “There is a cat under here.”

The guy instantly drops and takes a peek. “Holy shit will you look at that.” He then turns and yells over his shoulder, “Hey Peter! Where’s that cat carrier you found?” He turns back and reaches for the cat, “Alright little guy, come here.”

The cat gives a furious hiss and the guy snatches his hand back out. “Jeez, ain’t you feisty.” _What did you expect,_ Gavin thinks, _it’s terrified._

The yelled-for Peter comes up with a blue pet carrier. “You called for this Noah?”

Gavin sizes Peter up. He’s a pretty big guy. “Hey Peter, how fast do you think you can move the couch out of the way?”

Noah gives him a confused look, but Peter seems to be on the same page. “Want me to get a towel?”

“Nah I’ll just use my jacket,” Gavin says, shrugging it off. “‘Sides, everything in this house is practically evidence at this point.”

Peter grabs the arm and the back of the sofa. “When you’re ready.”

Gavin has his jacket at the ready, Noah opens the carrier. Gavin nods to Peter.

Peter heaves the couch up and back. The cat is still huddled in it’s spot, now completely exposed. Before it can scamper away, Gavin steps in and scoops it up in his jacket. He then turns to Noah and he slides the cat, jacket and all, into the carrier. Noah quickly closes the cage door. The cat gives a very angry growl from inside.

“Are you gonna keep it until a relative or something takes it?” Noah says, handing Gavin the carrier.

“Yeah, it’s not like we can keep it in the evidence room.” Gavin says peering in. There are two angry yellow eyes looking out from the fabric of his coat. “You better not stress-pee on my jacket until I get your fluffy ass home.”

The cat responds with a hiss.

 

xxx

 

Gavin stops at a grocery store on the way home. Sure, he could go to a pet store, but they would sell him the exact same things for a higher price. All he needs is to make sure this cat doesn’t die until someone can pick it up. He only gets enough stuff to last a week, the only exception being kitty litter (because you can only buy that stuff in the biggest container possible).

There is not a peep to be heard from the carrier for the rest of the trip, which Gavin takes to be a good sign. Hopefully it won’t pee on his jacket before he lets it loose in his apartment. He really likes that jacket and doesn’t want to have to get a new one.

When he gets home, there is some bag juggling before he gives up and just does two trips. One for all the cat’s shit and then one for the cat. Before he lets it run free, he does a quick cleaning sweep of his apartment. Mainly taking cups and breakables off tables and putting them in higher or just away. There is no telling what kind of temperament this cat has besides “pissed it’s in a carrier”.

Gavin moves the carrier to a corner of his living room, between the couch and the wall. _It’s probably gonna just hide under the couch again._ He shuffles a little to the side, so he can snatch his hand out of the way if he has to. _Terrified and miserable. Not your night, is it?_ He slowly opens the door.

The cat does not move.

After waiting a full minute, Gavin risks leaning his head down to peek inside the carrier. Two round eyes stare back at him. The cat probably isn’t moving anytime soon. “Alright, I’m gonna set you up then,” Gavin mutters and starts unpacking it’s things.

He keeps everything close to the carrier. The litter goes right beside the carrier, mostly because there isn’t really another corner to put it. Kitty’s food and water goes a few feet away, under the couch.  Hopefully the cat will be out by the end of the week, and he’ll be able to put stuff in better locations.

“Alright you ball of hair and spite,” Gavin announces to it, “I’m going to bed and you can do whatever the fuck you want. Don’t destroy anything.” The only answer is two glowing eyes from the darkness of the crate.


	2. Chapter 2

A week later, Gavin still has the cat. All of the deceased’s relatives live out of state, and they can’t even contact anyone on the guy’s side of the family. The other option is to bring it to the humane society. 

He doesn’t.

He honestly feels bad for it. He has barely seen it for more than 30 seconds at a time, it skitters back into the carrier or under the couch as soon as he comes home.  _ More like a “concept of a cat” than an actual cat. _ But it’s eating food and pooping in the litter box, so it’s certainly alive. Just alive and afraid of him. 

He’s still not entirely sure what colour it is. It is mostly white with brown patches, and has long hair. He’s seen a little paw or two stick out from under the couch from time to time. Asides from that, this cat is a nebulous ball of hair and fear. He doesn’t even know if it’s a boy or a girl. Is it fixed? Not a clue.

So he starts talking to it. It’s his house, and at this point, also his cat. He feeds it, and cleans up its poop, it’s going to  _ like _ him dammit. Usually he’ll talk to kitty when he’s cooking dinner or before he goes to bed. Gavin is way to incoherent in the morning to do anything other than offer a sleepy “goodbye cat” before he leaves to work. 

And today, he can tell it’s been on his countertop. There are little hairs and litter pebbles on it. He turns and gives the couch a look. There is a distinctive cat shape under it. “Hey you nasty hairy goblin, you’re not allowed up here.” He gives the counter a few taps with his nails. Half a face peeks out from the dark, yellow eyes big. “You got your little poop pebbles all over where I eat.” Gavin gestures across the counter. The cat looks back, eyes wide, guilty. “This is like the only place you’re not allowed. It’s one rule, you little criminal.” He starts wiping his counter down. The cat gives a very quiet squeak before sliding back under the darkness of the couch. “If you want to be up here you have to pay rent. Get a job, freeloader.” 

xxx

Over the course of the next week, the cat finally comes out from under the couch. It still hangs out in the corner of the room, and doesn’t immediately bolt into it’s crate when he comes home. Progress. His other cat he had when he was little was much bolder. Mr Big used to shove his face into everything he could, and used to follow Gavin around the house. He also had a  _ proper _ meow, not these little squeaks.

“Little Criminal”, or just “Crimes” seems to be what he’s calling the current cat now. Gavin supposes it’s a good identifier for the it if anything; since it still skitters and slinks around the house looking guilty.

The downside of Crimes getting bolder is that the hair is getting on  _ everything _ . Absolutely everything. Gavin found cat hair on his toothbrush once. And after he managed to pull his jacket back out from the carrier ( _ pee-free _ jacket), it was more hair than jacket. He had to put it through the dryer twice to get the hair off. He had to go and get a stockpile of lint rollers, and a hair brush (eventually to be used on Crimes when he finally gets to touch him). Gavin is surprised the cat still has hair on it’s body at this point. 

  
He once gets a call around 3 am and nearly has a heart attack when he sees a shape jump off his bed, and hears skittering noises go down the hall. It takes Gavin a few slow moments to piece together that it was Crimes and not some nightmare creature. It brings a warm feeling that Crimes was actually curled up sleeping with him. It’s quickly followed by a disappointed realization that the cat won’t let him touch him when he’s awake.  _ This is going to be an future Gavin problem. Present Gavin has to go look at a dead body. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it was hairy goblin vs little criminal for names, and i know hairy goblin is a great cat name, but listen, crimes is where it's at


	3. Chapter 3

Future Gavin has decided to solve this problem the most direct way he knows how. Bribery.

The new present Gavin plops himself in the middle of his living room Friday night and slaps the treat bag in front of him. Criminal peeks his patched face out from behind the chair legs. “Hey you,” Gavin says sternly, “you’re gonna let me touch your little hairy face today, even if I have to bribe you with the whole bag.”

Crimes gives a little squeak. Gavin gives the bag a quick shake. The cat’s eyes snap to it.  _ That’s what I thought _ . “All right, Little Criminal,” Gavin says, pulling a treat from the bag. He gives it a little toss over to the cat. Crimes makes a dramatic dive for it. Gavin instantly leans over to try and get a look at the cat’s butt.  _ Boy or girl, dammit cat, move your stupidly fluffy tail.  _ Crimes settles down to crunch it, and peeks over his shoulder back at Gavin. Gavin signs and rummages for another treat. “You’re going to eat the whole fucking bag, aren’t you?”

Gavin spends about 5 minutes of treat-tossing before Crimes finally has his tail up high enough for Gavin to make an cat-gender guess. The hairest goblin in the house is a girl. She turns her big eyes to Gavin and squeaks her demand. Instead, Gavin holds out the next treat as far as he can towards her. “Baby steps, Cimes. Come here floofy girl.”

When she realizes he’s not going to throw it to her, Crimes gives a pitiful mew, tail curling in the air. Gavin doesn’t move. Very slowly, Crimes creeps over and sntaches the treat from his fingers. She backs up about a foot away to wolf it down. When done, she looks back hopefully at him again. 

“Was that so hard?” Gavin asks, fishing another treat out of the bag. “Come on back, the dessert buffet is still open until I get to boop your nose.”

Crimes’ eyes are glued to his hands, and she shows less hesitation when he offers her the next treat.  _ Nice. Time to rinse and repeat. _

Gavin continues the treat offerings, but every time he doesn’t hold his arm out so far. Crimes then comes closer and closer, and each time she takes her prize, she doesn’t move as far back. When Gavin is only 10 teats away from an empty bag, she’s sitting right beside him, little white paws tucked behind her fluffy brown tail. 

“You’ve been spoiled,” he tells her, as she sniffs at his fingers. “There was like 40 treats in here. We can’t do this every time, you’ll get fat.” Gavin opens his hands, so they’re palm up and he wiggles his fingers at Crimes’ face. “Let me touch your fluffy face already.”

She responds by trying to sniff his wiggling fingers. Gavin moves one of his hands so that it’s closer to her chest and shoulder than her face. Crimes doesn’t move except to follow his hand with her head, still hoping for treats no doubt. Gavin waits 2 seconds before pushing his hand against her and giving her a firm rub from her shoulder up to the side of her face. 

She is the softest living thing Gavin has ever touched. 

Crimes shies away, ears low. She only goes a few feet away, back towards the table legs, turning back to face him. Gavin doesn’t chase her, but it still hurts. If that asshole who used to own her wasn’t going to jail already, Gavin would have put him there himself. 

“Come here scaredy-cat,” he says in a low voice. Gavin offers her another treat. “I said even if it took the whole bag. And the bag isn’t done yet.” Crimes’ ears pick back up at the sight of the treat, but she doesn’t move back. Gavin pats his thighs. “Come on Little Criminal, it’s not going to be like before.”

Slowly, very slowly, Crimes slinks back. She very delicately picks the treat from Gavin’s fingers, then chomps it down. She doesn’t move away again. He gives her a long look before he tries to give her another pet. 

She lets him.

He can tell she doesn’t really know what to do with it. She just knows that she gets treats if she gets touched. After the first few strokes she moves away again, waiting for Gavin to offer up another chicken-flavoured piece of bribery.  _ Glad we’ve reached an understanding. But just you wait, _ Gavin thinks gleefully as he starts to rake his fingers along the underside of her chin,  _ wait until you find out you like this. _


	4. Chapter 4

Having a cat is highly emotionally rewarding, especially when Gavin teaches her things (ie: pets are good). But there is also the flip side of his cat being named Little Criminal for a reason. 

Because after a 15 hour day, he does not want to come home to see that  _ more _ crimes that have been committed inside his own house. Which of course, it exactly what Gavin sees.

So, his apartment isn’t exactly classifiable as a “studio” because it has a very thin wall and flimsy door cutting the largest living space in half. Technically being a “one bedroom”, as it has exactly 8x8 feet of space sealed off from the rest of the more proportionately laid out house. This however, leaves him with a weird closet situation. He has one for brooms and other junk near the kitchen, and one very large closet by the door, where pretty much all of his clothes and coats fit. 

Gavin may have neglected to close the big closet door all the way when he left this morning. This is still technically not his fault, in his defense, he was very tired.

The littlest, hairiest criminal, has managed to swat everything off the hangers. Absolutely everything is on the floor, and covered in white hair. How Crimes has done it is anyone’s guess, since she is only a foot long. 

Gavin sighs, checks his stove. It’s one in the morning. A very small meow comes from behind him. The perp herself is looking at him expectantly, tail curling up in the air behind her.

“You’re going to jail,” he tells her. “You and your horrible little cat hands are going to jail, one million years dungeon.” He pulls up a sweater from the pile on the floor and shoves it back on a hanger. Crimes squeaks back at him. “Go directly to jail, do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my iphone failed to update itself and I had to reset it so I wrote a snippet after I was done foaming at the mouth
> 
> longer stuff to come when I'm less angry

**Author's Note:**

> this is an excuse to keep up writing creatively during school, so, if you have a problem, don't @ me, don't tell me your passions,
> 
> also this was a bad game and i've stolen this horrible man, i don't care, you can't catch me bavid bage, I can defo run faster than you, and i'm giving him a cat


End file.
